Forbidden Magic (24 page)

"And I am not one to meddle where I know not to venture, but I have heard of your circumstances. "Rs Sir Amery they blame for the death of your family. Do you believe his innocence? 'Twould be the only reason you travel freely with him."

Laughter escaped her before she could dwell on the response it might create and she raised a hand to cover her mouth, ashamed of her carelessness.

"Lady Jewel, if he holds you against your will, I shall speak with Lord Gunther."

He waited for her answer, but when Jewel merely looked away, a troubled frown on her brow, the truth of the matter hit Hadwin as soundly as a sword striking a shield. His light complexion darkened and before he could utter a word, Jewel quickly touched a hand to his sleeve.

"Please, Sir Hadwin," she begged, "do not tread where 'tis no concern of yours."

"But my lord has allowed it," he snapped.

"Prithee, speak with him and know his reason before you judge. We have only just met and I must not be the cause of your looking unfavorably upon your lord. Sir Gunther many times sought to step between us but didn't, and I can only guess it to be out of respect for his friend. I do not find him lacking and neither must you."

Jewel saw the anger, the doubt clouding his blue eyes, and she opened her mouth to further stress the point when she felt a strong hand take her arm. Startled to find Amery had made his claim on her, she cast her eyes away from Hadwin, praying Amery would not suspect the words they had shared and that the young knight would heed the advice she had given him.

"Doth appear the youth is smitten with your beauty, fair one," Amery whispered as he guided them toward the manor.

Vexed by the mockery in his tone, Jewel sought to even the score. "Wouldst thou be jealous?"

"Nay," he retorted with a laugh, "never that. Twould mean you had found a place in my thoughts. 'Tis amusing, perhaps, but nothing more."

Jewel felt the sting of his words and rather than further bruise her fragile ego, she set her attention on the entry way of the fortress, thankful that all eyes followed the lord of Burchard as he hurriedly made his way through the throng of wellwishers.

Above the din of the crowd, Jewel heard Gunther's voice call out, strong and sure and filled with excitement, and his admirers laughed good-naturedly when no answer greeted him. Caught up in the flow of bodies pressing in through the front entrance, Jewel and Amery were swiftly taken inside, and she had to stand on tiptoe in order to see Gunther as he headed for the stairs.

"Lady Anne," he shouted again. " 'Tis your husband. Come forth that I might feast my eyes and discover that thou hast grown plump in my absence."

Love spilled from his recital and Jewel suddenly knew that no matter how his wife had faired or even if she had sprouted two heads, he would love her equally as much as when they had parted. A strange warmth filled her and at the same time an emptiness tugged at her heart, for die wondered if she would ever be able to make such a claim.

A door banged shut from somewhere above and a hush fell over the people in the great hall. All faces turned to watch the lady of the manor grace the stairs, and Jewel experienced a strange exhilaration, as if she were awaiting the dowager queen. A moment later a beautiful woman stood before them, unconscious of the crowd that observed, for her gaze had immediately gone to the tall figure at the bottom of the stone stairway.

"Lady Anne?" Gunther questioned, his tone light. "Do my eyes deceive me? Would this beauty be my wife or a vision from heaven?"

A bright smile lit the lovely features of her face. "Yea, 'tis I," she replied in kind. "Do I disappoint thee?"

"Only that thou wouldst stand so far away." He grinned, opening his arms to welcome her.

The burgundy of her damask gunna shimmered nearly black as she hurriedly descended the stairs toward her husband, tears of joy streaming down her face. Before she had reached the last tread, Gunther met her, crushing her within his embrace and placing a long, passionate kiss upon her mouth as the crowd broke into wild cheers once more. When at last they parted, he held her at arm's length and studied her from head to toe.

"Tune has been your friend, my love," he whispered approvingly as those who witnessed his homecoming moved away to allow the couple their privacy, i

"And my enemy, Gunther," she replied. "There were moments when I thought I could not bear another without you by my side." She hugged him to her, then twisted so that he might see the stairway and the three children who stood patiently waiting at the top. "Had it not been for your children, I would have spent the hours weeping."

His blue eyes warmed the instant he saw them. Placing a light kiss upon his wife's brow, he left her to climb the stairs and hesitated only a moment before he lifted the two young boys in his arms, smothering their faces with kisses. The lads, one of ten years, the other seven, giggled their delight and clung desperately to their father's neck.

"Anson . .. Edric," Gunther declared, beaming, "'tis good to see you again. I pray you have not forgotten me."

"Nay, Father," they chorused.

"Didst thou take good care of your mother in my stead?"

"I did, Father," Anson replied eagerly.

"And so did I," his younger brother objected.

Gunther threw back his bead and laughed gaily. "And thou wilt make fine knights someday, my sons." He smiled, bending to set them on the floor again. Only then did he notice the third child, a girl of three, staring wide-eyed and sucking on the tip of one of her fingers. Crouching before her, Gunther asked, "And who might you be?"

"That's Ella, Father," Anson said proudly. "She's our baby sister."

The smile faded from Gunther's face to be replaced by a look of surprise. Rising, he turned to glance back down at his wife. "W ... Why ... ?" he stuttered. "You must have known before I left for the Crusade. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have gone?" Anne smiled, climbing the stairs to join her family. "The birth was easy, Gunther. I was well attended and I had many of your friends around me to take care of me. You did what you had to do and it would have saddened me to see you do otherwise."

A moment passed before he smiled and said, "Good fortune fell upon me the day I took you as my wife." Then he turned and gently lifted the tiny girl in his arms, lovingly appraising the delicate beauty so much like her mother's. "She has your blond hair and brown eyes," he said after awhile. "Pray, when she smiles, is there a dimple in her cheek?"

"Yea, Gunther, like mine." Anne grinned. "I fear the only similarity between father and daughter is her stubbornness."

"Ha-hah!" Gunther roared. "Then she is a true daughter of mine." His mood turned serious. "And I shall love her as I do my sons. Now come," he added, holding out his arm to motion Anson and Edric down the stairs, "I want to introduce this brood to my good friend."

The great hall below brimmed to the rafters with song and cheers as all within toasted their lord's return. Servants hurried from' the kitchen with platters of roasted boar, dried fruits, custards, breads, and pitchers of ale to help in the celebration. Musicians were called upon to play their lyres and harps, and Jewel found herself hopelessly caught up in the merrymaking, the delicious smells of the feast filling her nostrils and the peace that reigned over the castle reminding her of home. But of it all, the apparent happiness of the lord and lady of the manor brought a sadness to her eyes as she watched their reunion. They were the expression of all the beautiful things that should be shared between a man and wife, and she sensed that because of what had happened to her, she would never be fortunate enough to experience the same pleasures.

"Your envy shows," Amery whispered as he took the mantle from her shoulders and handed it to one of the serfs.

Jewel watched him in slight irritation while he removed his own mantle, unbuckled*his sword, and slid the chain-mail coif from his head, adding the garments to hers. With a bow, the servant stepped aside and Jewel watched the man until he had moved far enough away not to hear her acrid retort.

"Envy of one who has what was brutally taken from me should not be scorned." Long, auburn curls swayed sharply when Jewel raised her chin and looked elsewhere. "Especially by you."

" 'Tis not scorn you hear"—he chuckled, accepting the proffered tankard of ale from one of the serving maids—"but simple observation. I have told you before that I care little for the inane feelings of a woman. Yours are no exception." He lifted the mug to his lips and took a long swallow.

Jewel's head snapped back to look at him and voice her rebuttal, but she caught sight of Gunther and his family approaching and forced herself to bite back her angry reply, certain there would come another time when she could tell him that she too cared very little for what he felt. She lowered her head and dismissed the frustrated emotions from her thoughts. She would not ruin Gunther's moment of happiness.

"My love," Gunther said with a smile once they had reached Amery and Jewel, "I want you to meet one of the few men I would trust with my life. Lady Anne of Burchard . .. my good friend, Sir Amery of Wellington."

" 'Tis an honor to have you here in our humble dwelling, Sir Amery." Anne smiled warmly. "And I extend that welcome for as long as you wish."

Bowing in return, Amery smiled one-sidedly at Gunther. " 'Tis I who am honored, Lady Anne, that your husband would place his faith in me to such a degree."

"And since it be the case," she added, "I thank thee for bringing him home safely to me."

Suddenly Gunther burst into laughter, "And to hear the two of you, one would think I have the importance of the king. Now cease your compliments and bestow them upon this fair beauty." He grinned, nodding at Jewel. "May I present Lady Jewel of Harcourt and betrothed to Sir Amery."

Only a hint of surprise showed on Anne's face before she quickly masked it and smiled. "Welcome, Lady Jewel."

"Thank you," Jewel replied with a curtsy. " 'Tis kind of you to allow us your hospitality without prior warning."

"If it meant extending it to a thousand guests just to have my husband home again, I would do it many times over," Anne assured her, reaching out for Jewel's hand. "And you must be tired from your journey. May I show you to your chambers where you can wash the dust of your travels from your face?"

"It would pleasure me greatly," Jewel admitted with a sigh.

"Then we shall leave the men to their drinks and talk of the Crusade." She nodded, turning to take little Ella from her husband's aims. "Can thou tellest thy father good eventide? Tis long past the time you were abed."

The tiny blond head quickly burrowed into her mother's neck, the round, brown eyes staring apprehensively at the man smiling back at her. Several moments passed and when it appeared Ella would not respond, Gunther wrinkled up his face at her, bringing a host of delighted giggles from the child.

" Tis good enough," Gunther declared with a laugh, reaching out to lightly stroke his daughter's curls. "Methinks I would seek my mother's protection too if I were thee. Doth show thy wisdom, my daughter. Tomorrow we will come to know each other better."

Then without any urging, Ella pushed away from her mother and held out her tiny arms to Gunther.

"What's this? A change of heart so soon?" He grinned and took the child in his embrace, giving her a gentle hug and a warm kiss upon her brow.

Jewel viewed the scene before her with tenderness and longing, recalling how shy her little brother had been at Ella's age. But that would change. It had with William. Absently she glanced over at Amery and her face registered surprise, for his own held a soft, responsive smile as he covertly watched father and child. But feeling her gaze upon him, he blinked without looking at her and concentrated on the tankard of ale he held, his face expressionless once more. Could it be that a mere babe had found a soft spot in this callous knight's hardened reserve? Was there hope for the stone-faced nobleman? She smiled secretly with her newfound knowledge, wondering how much more there was to learn about him, and although the thought of staying in his company any longer than needed angered her, she decided then that the time might be well spent.

"Come, Anson, Edric," she heard Lady Anne instruct and turned her attention on the young boys, their disappointment showing on their faces as their mother ushered them along. "Your father and Sir Amery have things to discuss that are not for youthful ears. You may spend time with him on the morrow."

"Yea, Mother," they muttered, disheartened.

Jewel watched them go with amusement lifting the corners of her mouth, for, as they walked, first one then the other fought to lead the way. Anson would give his brother a quick jab in the ribs, then Edric would shove Anson off balance that he might step ahead. Only the sharp reprimand from their mother put an end to their boyish quarrel. With a shake of her head, Anne retrieved her daughter from Gunther's arms and turned back to shrug at Jewel and extend a hand toward the stairway.

"Wouldst thou enjoy a bath, Jewel?" Anne questioned as they climbed the stairs. "I will have it brought to your chambers right away if it be your want."

"It would be greatly appreciated." Jewel sighed. "I'm afraid I haven't had the opportunity since—" Suddenly visions of the last bath she had taken and what had happened afterward exploded in her mind; Her color deepened and unthinkingly she glanced up at Lady Anne, her step faltering when her foot missed a tread and nearly tumbling her on the staircase. Laughing nervously, she forced her attention on the path she took and said, "Forgive my clumsiness. I fear the journey has been too much."